


Loser Lesbian Eats Cake in Motel Room After Missed Romantic Opportunity

by Confuzledsheep



Series: Storm Warning [3]
Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Falling In Love, Family Bonding, I'm perpetuating my Tien/Sarasa agenda, Idiots in Love, Introspection, Lesbians, Love at First Sight, Quality Family Interactions, Tien eats Cake, Tiki Bars, Visiting the Ocean, father daughter bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-07 05:52:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16402520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Confuzledsheep/pseuds/Confuzledsheep
Summary: This fic is part of a larger group of fics that all tell the same story, but from different viewpoints. If something is confusing, it might be worth reading the other two fics and then coming back to this one.Thank you for your patience!





	1. Convergence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Onus_Probandi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onus_Probandi/gifts), [vanishing_apples](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanishing_apples/gifts).



> This fic is part of a larger group of fics that all tell the same story, but from different viewpoints. If something is confusing, it might be worth reading the other two fics and then coming back to this one.
> 
> Thank you for your patience!

Nightlife was not her thing.

None of this was really her ‘thing’.

Why she was currently slipping on some of her nicest clothes, despite the humidity making the tight shirt a nightmare, was currently beyond her.

Maybe it was a form of cabin fever- being stuck in a motel room next to her dad and her brother and his boyfriend, who were certainly being romantic or affectionate in some form.

The thought sickened her.

She loved Quatre, she really did, he was her brother, first and foremost, but something about his relationship with Six made something churn in her stomach. Maybe it was the concept of romance- seeing such love so close to her after living nearly her entire life separated from romance almost entirely.

Siete never brought home boyfriends or went on dates or even _mentioned_ previous partners, so for much of her life, such a concept was merely a fantasy. Something else everyone else seemed involved with, but a mysterious concept that remained isolated from her.

The bright lights around the sink blinded her as she blended the pink above her eyes into the odd texture of the foundation. In theory the product would last under heat and sweat- she had bought it when she was working in the ER, hearing and recording the long strings of phrases and mental ailments from incoming patients.

Her hair would be a mess by the time she returned, but she still ensured the massive braid was tight and orderly.

Quatre has once joked it could be used as a rope if she ever needed one. He was right.

It could also be used as a noose.

***

Going swimming in the middle of the night was likely a terrible idea.

Not that Tien really minded. She loved the beach. The other three were likely out cold anyway. Quatre and Six were. Siete had yet to return by the time she left the motel, but she knew there was likely no reason to worry. She had sent Quatre a text just to be safe.

Her bag was half-buried in the sand, phone and taser within quick reach. There were dim street lamps illuminating the edges of the sand, flickering and buzzing as the bugs threw themselves against the bulbs.

She would almost compare herself to them, had her lust been more wild in nature.

She did not seek a blinding light to throw herself against, but she would never scorn Six for such behavior.

Sandals were shoved in her bag, bare feet sinking into the fine sand. Maybe she wouldn’t swim. Just sitting on the beach would be enough for her. There was a lantern in the motel closet, the heavy thing now swinging from her hand.

She had put it in her purse as a blunt weapon before she left.

The club life was just as suffocating as she expected. She was 23, she shouldn’t be giving up yet.

Compulsory heterosexuality and the stench of loosely controlled violence overpowered any intoxication from mixed drinks or perfume. Hatred and stupidity as scantily clad as the women, but more obvious in the men.

_This is Florida. You really shouldn’t expect much from it._

The night sky ate the beach with a hunger she might have wished to possess. The waves were clawing at the shore, saltwater clinging to her feet with a suffocating need.

Maybe she shouldn’t have studied the brain. Analyzed countless thoughts and actions and people.

It just made understanding herself much, much harder.

People tended to be very simple creatures, with behaviors that were only mysterious to those who refused to ever really look at them. 

A simplicity that bored her. It really shouldn’t have, it was not her peers fault in the slightest, it was her own. She simply knew too much.

_Quite a pretentious sentiment, ain’t it? Such strong words…_

The water rose around her, licking at ankles and calves, reminding her of one of the more… _interesting_ partners she had experienced.

_Knowledge is power, for better or worse… when was the last time someone challenged me? When was the last time I was ever really… surprised?_

_Why have I been missing out on love?_

Quatre had made her almost insanely jealous, for extremely petty reasons. Shared moments of affection, spectacular forgiveness, the drama of the fight… she was only a witness to all of it, trying to find a more complicated, more interesting explanation for the events than necessary. 

Some sick part of her wanted to see it fall apart, so she could see what the two of them actually shared. What was in the connective tissue? What made Quatre act so stupid all those years ago when all this was still little more than a crush? How had Six stopped loving Siete and started loving his son instead?

Maybe she should stop asking questions for once. Maybe she should practice what she preached to children and teenagers and let it go.

Maybe she should let it all go. Grow stupid again. She wanted something that would change her- someone who made her act like a fucking fool- make her different, see things in a new light.

She wanted things to be fun again, but she knew that would be unfair to ask for.

The feelings would only be fuel, gifted from another person, she would shape them into familiar entities of understanding. She couldn’t ask for such great things, such abstract concepts- that would certainly force the other party to give much more than they received.

Light rippled across the sea, lantern still swinging in her hand. She heard some noises, a voice, but they were not aggressive, so she remained encased in her own thoughts.

Whitecaps were illuminated in the moonlight and the waves were so dark in the night- the paltry light bulbs of street lamps hardly making a dent in the deep color of the sea.

Inky black. That’s how many would describe it. Ancient stories would compare it to wine, blue not having been invented or recognized at that time.

_A completely unnecessary fact._

Swimming in her own thoughts, she hardly noticed the light in her hand being switched off, the splashing of another body getting seawater on her white shorts.

“Ya shouldn’t have that on, yanno. It confuses the baby turtles.”

Tien turned, looking down at the woman behind her. “Oh, I am deeply sorry. I’m a traveler, so I beg your forgiveness-“

Something cut her off. Her mind no longer transfixed on its own ramblings, she blinked down at the woman, losing the ability to form complete sentences.

She grinned, somehow brighter than the moon overhead, drowning out the lights of the city despite the natural shadow cast by Tien’s form. “You don’t gotta forgive me, just doin’ my job!”

“Which is?”

She blinked, moving around, shuffling from foot to foot. “I’m a researcher.”

“Really?”

She nodded, playing with her hair. “I’m on an off day though.”

“Are you free this evening?”

“Isn’t already past evening?”

Tien opened her mouth to respond but couldn’t. The woman had a point, but that hardly mattered. 

She was extremely distracted by her beauty. Cute hair pulled into a messy bun, sun kissed skin, large, curved horns, topped with cute pink ornaments. There was something extremely… inviting about her. 

Tien wasn’t a woman to firmly believe in love at first sight, but she was close. So, so tantalizingly close. The bugs throwing themselves against lightbulbs seemed much less foolish now, a fishhook imbedded in her rib cage, tugging her heart in vastly different directions.

“That is true, isn’t it. Are you free right now then?”

The woman seemed surprised by Tien’s offer. “I, I am, in fact, free.”

_Is she… Blushing?_ “Would you like to keep me company then?”

“I- uh, Sure! There’s a great tiki bar a few blocks back! I think…”

The sea was rising, waves starting to splash above her knees, salted droplets slowly soaking her clothes. 

“That sounds, uh, excellent. I don’t know anywhere else to go.”

“We should probably get out of the sea.”

She stiffened, realizing that the water was almost halfway up her leg. “Oh! Yes of course.”

The woman giggled, moving her feet to free herself from the sand. Offering a hand out to Tien as she shuffled out of the surf.

Tien took her invitation, basking in the roughness and the ridges of her palm. “I am Tien, and you are?”

Eyes sparkling, she pulled Tien from the surf, ddrops of seawater apparent on her red shirt. “Name’s Sarasa, pleasure!”

_Anything would be a pleasure from you._

“So, where is this bar?”

Sarasa perked up, apparently too focused on Tien's face. “Oh! Uh, a few blocks up to the uuuhhh… left??”

“Shall we go then?” Tien asked, offering a hand to Sarasa. She had never been so bold before. Never had her heart taken such control. Her blood was no longer red, having taken a new shade. The liquid running through her trembling heart was a hot pink. That was the only reason why she was so dizzy, losing herself in Sarasa's deep brown eyes, endless like the night sky.

Cobblestones blended together, the beach side streets empty, lanterns and rows of string lights illuminating the world before them. The small orbs of white and yellow illuminating Sarasa's silver hair.

Their hands were laced together, like they had spent many evenings in each other's arms, shared sweet nothings starting to mean the world to the two of them. They talked like they had been married for years, tones and phrases heard a million times before- but never losing their luster. Never losing their charm.

They probably looked like they stepped from a movie poster, Van Gogh himself painting the landscape in swirls of white and gold.

Tien had fallen. And she had fallen _hard._

Shitty speakers whispered garbled tunes, likely from the 50’s, dreaming of beaches and sun.

A table for two in the corner, Sarasa stumbling up the tall chair.

The menus came, choices made with an ease she didn’t even have with her family, or coworkers. 

Tien assured that she would pay. She made more money than she really knew what to do with, confusion and habitual penny-pinching often mistaken for financial greatness. 

Sarasa’s appetite and palette knew no bounds, and Tien only fell further, mixed drinks and pleasant conversation only amplifying the unreasonable feelings in her heart.

“So,” Sarasa said, between mouthfuls of oysters. “What’s a gal like you doing down here?”

“My father wanted to see some old friends of his for his birthday. Dragged my brother and I down here for fun, I guess.”

“Really? You plan on coming back?”

Tien glanced up, eyes wide. The question caught her off guard- did Sarasa want her to stay? Did she… Want this to continue? “Do you want me too?”

She blushed, slipping from her cocktail. “Somethin’ like that ain’t very realistic, but a gal can dream!”

“I-I want too!” She should be asking herself _why._ Why did she want to do this? Why did her heart bang against her ribcage like a kickdrum when Sarasa smiled? Why did they act like they were married- a few miles and a signature out from legally obtaining it- not like they would, the social repercussions too great down here.

“Ya do?!”

“Yes! Hell, if I was a bit more drunk I might be proposing marriage!”

_Whelp. That was a thing. That she just spoke. Out loud._

Sarasa was as red as Tien’s drink, sputtering over words, squeezing Tien’s hand, which was intertwined with hers on top of the table. 

An odd silence spread over them like smoke. They couldn’t bear to make eye contact, cheeks flushed and hearts pounding.

“Not like that’s… a good idea or anything…”

She was saved by Sarasa’s phone vibrating, the woman fumbling with the keys to answer it.

Tien tuned out the conversation, watching the edible glitter swirl in her cocktail. She didn’t like eavesdropping.

Sarasa sighed, looking back at her food, ending the call.

“I have to head home soon…”

It still hurt. It was inevitable, but it still hurt.

An uncomfortable silence settled over them. The shimmer in her cocktail started to settle at the bottom of the glass.

Tien broke the silence. “Would you like to take a stroll?”

***

The colors of the sunrise looked like a cocktail Sarasa had downed hours earlier. Tien knew that if she dared to look at the way the sunlight colored her face, she would most certainly die on the spot.

“That was quite the evening, would you not agree?”

Sarasa giggled, draping her arms over Tien’s shoulders. “I don’t think we met early enough for it to be an evening~ But it was a great night though!”

_I really wish we had met sooner._

“Yes, it was a wonderful night.”

She smiled softly, looking off to the side, never pulling away from her. “...It sucks I have to leave…”

Tien felt her selfishness flood her. She didn’t want this to end. Something inside her made her pull Sarasa forwards, arms around her chest. “I.. I don’t know if-”

Hands on the back of her head pulled her forward, and she gladly ate her words.

Sarasa’s lips were just as cracked and chapped as she imagined, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. Despite the obvious signs of nervous chewing and biting and likely never using chapstick, her lips were soft and warm and _new._ Exciting, all of this was _so exciting_.

A dream she never wanted to wake from, something too good to be true, too good to be perfect. Lips smashing together at sunrise, still faintly tasting of alcohol and fish, arms tight around each other on a beachside promenade despite the sweat and the humidity and the heat of the day to come.

Pulling apart was hell, sheer hell, as Tien felt Sarasa’s phone vibrate in her front pocket, and they separated to face the cruel morning weather alone.

“I. I have to go.”

Tien just nodded.

Sarasa looked down, likely ashamed, before grabbing the front of Tien’s shirt and kissing her again.

“One for the road, ok?”

She couldn’t respond, only wave, and make sure Sarasa made it to the car in the beach parking lot that had come to pick her up.

Sunrises, she decided, are some of the loneliest times in the world.


	2. Divergence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “She was… so hot…”
> 
> Quatre's ears flicked back in fear. “Are you drunk?!”
> 
> She shook her head. “No… But her tiddies… Oh my god…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot of this chapter is in the Title folks. It's right there.

“Hey. Ti. You up?”

“Mmmhhhnnnhhhhmmmggg”

Quatre paused, before tapping on the door again. “You have clothes on?”

“Yeah…”

The doorknob clicked, Tien having left it unlocked an hour or so earlier.

“....Why are you eating an entire cake?”

Tien didn't look too hot. Big surprise there, honestly. Neither of them had seen her look so… _bad_ before.

Her makeup was smeared and running, lipstick hardly contained to her lips, dried and cracking. Hot pink marks in the vague shape of kisses dotted her neck, and Quatre and Six had a million questions.

“Hey. Uh.”

“Long story.”

Six raised an eyebrow, ear twitching. “We have time.”

Her fork slammed down on some unsuspecting piece of sponge cake, pulling it up to her mouth. “I kissed a girl and didn't get her fucking number.”

Quatre raised an eyebrow. “Ya kissed her once?”

“...More than once.”

“Tien it looks like you fucked in her car.”

Tien shook her head, taking another bite of cake. “She got lost. There was no car to fuck in.”

Six’s ear twitched. “Well was she hot?”

Quatre looked at Six like he was going to murder him in cold blood.

When the pair turned back to Tien, she looked seconds away from crying.

“She was… so hot…”

Quatre's ears flicked back in fear. “Are you drunk?!”

She shook her head. “No… But her tiddies… Oh my god…”

Neither of the men in the room had ever seen her so distraught. Tien was always composed, level headed. She was always the reasonable lesbian, not the lovestruck dipshit.

This was either going to be a disaster or a miracle.

The door swung open, someone stumbling inside. “Oh. There you two are.”

Ears down, Quatre turned. “Dad? Where the fuck were you-” the strong scent of booze and an unfamiliar cologne hit him full force, almost making him jump back.

Siete looked just as bad, if not worse than Tien. His shirt was uneven, having skipped a button or two, tie draped over his shoulder. His hair was messier than usual, bearing more of a resemblance to a rats nest than a palm tree.

“Hmm? Ooh, cake. Alright if I join you?” He asked, stumbling towards the small table, pulling out a chair and plopping down. Tien offered him a plastic fork, and he started digging in.

“...Anything you would care to explain?!” Quatre grumbled, crossing his arms. Six just looked shell-shocked.

Tien had no opinion to voice. For the first time in a very long while, her and her father were one and the same. Reeling from an evening of feelings and loss that would take many weeks to wash off.

“I came down here to visit a friend. As I said before.”

He sounded too defeated. Too betrayed. The same emptiness that was eating her soul was eating his.

Quatre was about to spit something from his lips, likely pure acid, but Six tugged at his sleeve, suggesting breakfast or tea, or coffee, and the pair stumbled off with the shared gait of people who had just renewed their bond the night before.

“So. What has you down this morning.” It was a statement, not a question. He was trying to fill the hurtful silence but deflect any questions or accusations against himself. Quite a commendable effort, in her opinion.

“I fell in love with this girl and then didn’t get her number.”

Siete made a noise of understanding. No great lecture jumped off from her foolishness, no long intricate stories of his past. Just a simple understanding, a careful attempt to not destroy her trust in him, like a squirming, naked bird in his trembling, calloused hands.

“I went clubbing and it was terrible. Went to the beach with a lantern I took from the hotel and she came up to me, told me it confused the baby sea turtles, and then she showed me to a tiki bar. I paid, we talked, we kissed at sunrise, and then she went home with a family member because she had gotten lost.”

Another noise of understanding. They had managed to work through the a third of the cake. In that instant Tien thought through every shared memory she had involving Siete and cake. Mostly birthdays, the few occasions Quatre had his heart broken. When she graduated high school, her acceptance into college.

Quatre shoved Sietes face into a cake on his 35th birthday. His eyebrows were covered in sprinkles. He looked so happy. He always did.

Maybe it was the fact of growing up, realizing your parents were _people._ That they had flaws and lives and hopes and dreams. Maybe Quatre was still struggling with that fact.

Siete never discussed past lovers. Or his past in general. Like he didn’t exist before he adopted the two of them.

Maybe that was the case. This wasn’t her place to judge.

“I’ll leave ya alone now. You want the car?”

She shook her head.

He ruffled her messy hair. “Stay safe, ok? Don’t burn the hotel down.”

The door clicked behind him. Footsteps vibrated down the hall.

The cake had long become tasteless, the lingering memory of cocktails drowning out anything else. She was only eating out of habit now. 

Sarasa’s lips still ghosted across her own, some phantom feeling washing over her. 

She wasn’t the type of woman to fall in love, let alone _lust_ with someone.

But here she was, putting a cake back into a box, shedding her clothes. If she was quiet, Quatre and Six wouldn’t hear a thing.

Harsh tones from behind the wall told her to hold off.

Cold water and makeup wipes removed the evidence but not the memories.

She hadn’t felt this empty in a long time.

Hot water made the stickiness in the air all the more unbearable, and the sand seeped between her toes as she walked towards the beach.

The sea brought in very little that evening, a few dead fish, and a shell or two. It wasn’t warm that morning, all the beach goers located a few miles down shore.

She liked the sea- it was pretty and powerful, and was now associated with her most recent (and possibly first) object of romantic affection.

The wind made her shirt press against her chest, goosebumps rippling over her arms and legs. Her hair was going to be a pain to untangle when she returned to the hotel.

Rushing waves and dark skies were very unusual. Especially when taking into account the heavy heat that coated the air like honey.

It was tremendously lonely.

Warm water licked at her feet. There was probably a storm coming.

Maybe it would be dangerous. She didn’t know.

The weather became a reflection of her mood, which was a curious occurrence, in her opinion. They were completely unrelated subjects altogether.

Coincidence was a very strange beast.

Raindrops landed on her arms, the warm droplets a far cry from the cold rains of the north.

Maybe she should head inside. Maybe she should stay until the storm came and the sea rose and swallowed her whole. Pulling her down into yet another depth where her lantern would not shine and distract the baby sea turtles. Where the sun and stars and moon warped on the surface, painting her line of sight like an oil painting, mimicking the way she saw the sea that night with all the streetlights and lanterns and lovestruck gazes.

She was soaked with rain, the sea licking at her calves.

Carefully, she pulled herself from the surf, walked back up the beach, sand caking her feet.

Hopefully now she would be able to sleep, or drink, or masturbate. Try and stave away the feelings that will likely forever go unrequited. Push them off into the back of her mind for just one more day.

If she kept repressing it, maybe one day it would go away.

She fumbled with the key, hands wet with rain and sweat.

_Why won’t it fucking work?-_

Her thought was cut off when her brother swing the door open.

“Pack your shit, Dad says we’re leaving.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment, Kudo, yell at me, send carrier pigeons, whatever y'all wanna do!
> 
> I have a [Twitter!!](https://twitter.com/ConfuzzledSheep?lang=en) where you can message me!


End file.
